Against the Rain

My lady, you once sought my drift

When all the world was scatter-pain,

And in the shallows of my shift

You turned my face against the rain;

(You caught my trace in your refrain).

 

Word-weary in remembrance,

Embittered by a long distrust

I thought that love was some mischance

That tears and time would turn to rust;

(To leave us bleeding, as it must).

 

But you long drained the bitter cup

That saw me tortured at the lip,

While I divined at thigh and sup

The virgin grace that gave me sip;

(You loved me at the lowering lip).

 

If only care is all we find

While forging links to make the mend,

The long disasters bought in kind

May not affect the way we spend;

(And love may win us, in the end).

 

David Lewis Paget